


Five Ways the World Didn't End

by Baylor



Category: 28 Days Later (2002), Deep Impact (1998), Independence Day (1996), Supernatural, The Stand - Stephen King, World War Z - Max Brooks
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe, Asteriods, Captain Tripps, Character Death, Gen, Monkey Rage Virus, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 22:58:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/932081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baylor/pseuds/Baylor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Except I <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/932024/chapters/1813625">totally wrote this one</a>.</p>
        </blockquote>





	1. Asteroid

Sam and Dean were still parked in front of the television, listening to the newscaster talk about a last-ditch, full-out nuclear assault on the hunk of rock headed smack for Earth, and a contingency plan to bury themselves deep within Missouri, when Dean’s phone rang. He answered it without looking at it first.

“Yeah?” he said, eyes not leaving the television.

“Dean Winchester?” the voice on the other end said.

“Yeah, who’s this?” he answered, and Sam frowned and turned to look at him.

“Mr. Winchester, this is Private Slater with the U.S. Army. I’m calling to inform you that you have been pre-selected for admittance to the Ark.”

“Uh …,” Dean said, then added intelligently, “What?”

“You and your brother, Sam Winchester, are to report to Fort Wood in Missouri no later than July 15. You will remain at Fort Wood until August 3rd, when you will be transported to the Ark. Do you have any questions, Mr. Winchester?”

“Ah,” Dean said, and then his brain caught up with his tongue. “Yeah. What the hell? Who is this really?” Sam came over to sit beside him and Dean tipped the phone so he could hear.

“Sir, this is Private Alan Slater with the U.S. Army. I’m calling to tell you you’ve been pre-selected for admittance to the Ark.”

“Yeah, that’s great,” Dean said. “Except that, technically, I’m, you know, not alive. And if I were, technically, alive, I’d be a wanted felon. My brother, too, on both counts. And even if we were alive and not wanted, why would the U.S. government be so keen on saving us that they’d pick us as two of only one million who get to survive the disaster currently hurtling toward us?”

Private Slater’s voice was strained. “Sir, there is a notation here with your information that states that should you and your brother accept this generous offer of refuge, you will be reinstated as living, legal citizens of the United States.”

“Wow, really?” Dean said, but Private Slater was already forging ahead.

“The notation further states that should you decline this generous offer of refuge or fail to report to Fort Wood by July 15, um, I’ll quote this for you, sir, ‘We will put their smug faces on every 24-hour news channel and inform the public that they eat babies for breakfast, should be considered armed and dangerous, and that any citizen coming into contact with them should shoot first and ask questions later.’”

“Whoa!” Dean yelled. “What the hell?”

Sam grabbed the phone out of his hand. “Look, this isn’t funny,” he said, and Dean couldn’t hear Private Slater’s response but Sam clamped his mouth shut and listened. “Really?” he said after a while, and then added, “Mm-hmm,” and after a while, “Are you sure this isn’t some kind of mistake?”

Dean grabbed at the phone and Sam wouldn’t relinquish it but tipped it so Dean could hear.

“All I can tell you, sir, is that the security notation on this file is of a level I’ve never seen before,” Private Slater was saying. “It’s extremely high-up.”

“FBI high-up?” Sam asked.

“Oh, no, sir. Um, Cabinet-level high-up,” Private Slater said.

“Huh,” Sam and Dean said together.

“There’s a few final notes here,” Private Slater said, and they could hear him typing. “Please inform the Winchesters that Mr. Robert Singer of South Dakota also has been pre-selected for admittance to the Ark.”

“That’s good, because we’re not coming without him,” Dean said, and Sam elbowed him.

“What else, Private?” Sam asked.

“Uh,” the private sounded confused, “it says, ‘Sorry, no Impala.’”

“Son of a bitch!” Dean yelled, and stood up to pace the room.

“Thank you, Private,” Sam said, then, “Yes, yes, certainly. I understand,” and he hung up.

“No Impala!” Dean yelled, waving his arms in indignation.

“Dean,” Sam sighed. Dean pointed a finger at him.

“You, you, you – shut up,” Dean said, and stormed out of the room.

Sam didn’t go after him. He figured Dean and the Impala deserved all the private time they could get before the world ended.


	2. Aliens

“I’m telling you, there’s no such thing as aliens,” Bobby said. “This is some kind of mass delusion, or everyone is under some kind of demonic spell or something.”

Dean used the towel that Bobby handed him to wipe enough goo off his face to see. “I’m thinking maybe this is aliens, Bobby,” he said.

Bobby threw up his hands in disgust. “If your father were here,” he started, and stopped when Sam pointed skyward. “I know, I see it,” Bobby griped. “I’m telling you, it just ain’t real.”

Sam pointed to his left, where the crashed ship was still smoking.

“I see that too,” Bobby said. “This has gotta been some kind of powerful spell. Or maybe it’s mass hypnosis or something. In fact, maybe the government cooked this whole thing up, brainwashed us while we were watching American Idol.”

“You watch American Idol?” Dean asked, while Sam aimed his rifle and nailed the thing crawling out of the wreckage right between its large black eyes.

“Huh, a co-pilot,” Dean said with interest. “Maybe we should hit the thing again in case there’s a whole crew about to come out.”

“You boys ain’t touching my shoulder-launcher again,” Bobby said. “You think this stuff is easy to come by? You’re not wasting my whole arsenal shooting at nothing.”

“Bobby,” Sam said, and then took a sharp breath and pressed his lips together. He stared at Bobby for a minute, and then said, “Go inside and watch TV.”

“I’m takin’ my shoulder-launcher with me,” Bobby said darkly, and stormed away.


	3. Monkey Rage Virus

He saw the teeth sink into Sam’s arm, but was too occupied fending off his own attackers to do anything. Not that there was anything to be done.

When he had dispatched the rest of the infected, Sam was standing there, choking out, “Dean, Dean, Dean,” and then he was gurgling and twitching, and then he lifted his head and his eyes were red.

Dean dropped his machete and stood his ground. He didn’t even put up his hands in defense when Sam rushed him. There wasn’t anything else to be done.


	4. Captain Tripps

At the height of his fever, Dean called for his father, and his mother, and for Sam, even though Sam was right there beside him, clutching his hand and wiping his brow.

“I’m here, Dean, I’m here,” he soothed, but Dean stared at him without sight.

“Don’t do it, Sammy,” he begged. “Don’t you do it. Please, we’ll find another way.”

“It’s all right,” Sam said quietly, and wondered which of the many nightmares of their lives Dean was recalling.

Eventually, he quieted and then he slept, the fever down a little, though his lungs still rattled loudly. Sam used the break to sleep himself, and once he was rested, to bury Bobby out back.

When Dean woke, Sam brought him some thin soup and water. There were dark bruises under Dean’s eyes, and around his throat, and Sam eyed them warily.

“I’ll kick it,” Dean told him hoarsely. “Can’t keep a Winchester down, right?”

“Right,” Sam said, clearing away Dean’s dishes so he could ease him down and cover him up. He wasn’t burning with the horrible fever of before, but his body still radiated heat. “You just need to rest up.”

“Thanks, Sammy,” Dean muttered, and Sam rested his hand in Dean’s hair for a moment.

That night he dreamed of a cornfield with red eyes peering out at him and an old black woman in a rocking chair on a porch.

“Samuel,” she said, “best be sure you chose the right path, boy. Might just be you could save us, if you do. But take the other path, there be dark times ahead, for all of us, and maybe no way back for you, Samuel.”

“I don’t understand,” Sam said to her and she gave him a toothless grin.

“You come see Mother Abigail now, once things are ended with your brother,” she said, and Sam shivered.

“Dean’s getting better,” he said, and knew it was a lie even as it fell from his lips.

“He’ll be with you, either way,” she said. “Don’t worry none about that. You got plenty else to worry over.”

When Sam woke, Dean was dead. He buried him next to Bobby and the next day he turned his back to the north and headed toward Nebraska.


	5. Zombies

“Well, boys,” Bobby said, and snapped his shotgun back together, “it’s hunting season.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Except I [totally wrote this one](http://archiveofourown.org/works/932024/chapters/1813625).


End file.
